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It had been about two weeks since his run in with the pirates, two weeks since the loss of his eye and two weeks since they shattered his pirates and drove his mind to the brink of insanity. Although it had been just about half a month since the incident, there wasn't one day when the thoughts of that awful night left his mind. The cruel laughter of those pirates, the screams of the women who got dragged off, the calls between brothers as one fell to the hands of pirates. They all plagued his mind.
It was undeniable that he failed that night, he made a promise to that village, to his friend, to keep them safe, to stave off those who threatened them. For all his efforts, he wasn't strong enough too beat them, and all he had too show for it was the loss of his right eye, broken hands and a depressed outlook. Although there was promise made that night that he intended to keep, he told that pirate leader, he would gut him like a fish, and the day he crossed paths with that pirate he would make due on that promise whole heartedly. However, Belen at this point was in no state to do that. Ever since he lost his eye he seemingly lost his ability in archery, and although his skill wasn't gone, Belen knew it would take time to learn again with his new disability. Then again the fact that his fingers were broken didn't help either.
Belen knew he had to get better, but he couldn't do it on his own, which lead him on the road towards Taengea. Belen didn't know the kingdom or it's people all too well, however he knew their forests and coin well, in earlier times Belen would travel down too Taegnea during the hunting season and then sell his catches on the market, namely during the large festivals Taengea was so well known for. This time however, it was far more urgent. Over his years Belen had heard of amazing healers residing in Taengea, blessed or not they were people of great skill, after all there was always some truth in myths. Whether they could fix his eye was unlikely, not even the blessed could do such a thing, only the gods could preform such a miracle, and last time Belen checked they were not on his side.
During his time on the road the road towards Taengea it stormed, and it stormed hard. Rain beat down on him almost every second day as he travelled. There where times where during his travels he would have to stop for shelter and reapply his crude bandages. It was only for the last stretch of the journey was he able to hitch a ride on a farmer's carriage, after he took pity on Belen's undoubtedly pathetic state, and for as much as Belen's stubbornness wanted to deny the offer, saying he could make it on his own, Belen knew his condition was already bad, he could already feel sickness over taking his body, he didn't need it to get any worse.
It was the eve of that day he arrived in the city residence of Taengea. Belen was always a figure that seemed to seep into the shadows, unnoticed, yet here he stood out like a shinning beacon. His leather armour he wore was tattered and scarred by the countless slashes of a blade he received, his brown and green robes and been ripped and shredded and plenty of new scars littered his face and arms. Crude bandages made from the cloth of torn up clothing were wrapped around his head and right eye as well as both his hands. The quiver on his back held all but two arrows and his hatch was beaten and beat. The only thing that seemed to be in any usable condition was his bow, yet with his hands bandaged up, he was in no state to use it.
It had taken some time, but by the sky was turning black and stars began to lit up the streets, Belen slammed his hand down on the door of a healer. He had asked around the residences and those who wanted him gone from their sight pointed him in this direction, and those of compassion did the same. Coughing loudly as sickness began too over take his body, he slammed his hand down once more. "Please, please please." He whispered too himself as he rested his head on the door. Slamming his hand down again for the final time as he screwed his eyes shut. He needed a healer, he needed them now, he needed a miracle. He needed hope.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It had been about two weeks since his run in with the pirates, two weeks since the loss of his eye and two weeks since they shattered his pirates and drove his mind to the brink of insanity. Although it had been just about half a month since the incident, there wasn't one day when the thoughts of that awful night left his mind. The cruel laughter of those pirates, the screams of the women who got dragged off, the calls between brothers as one fell to the hands of pirates. They all plagued his mind.
It was undeniable that he failed that night, he made a promise to that village, to his friend, to keep them safe, to stave off those who threatened them. For all his efforts, he wasn't strong enough too beat them, and all he had too show for it was the loss of his right eye, broken hands and a depressed outlook. Although there was promise made that night that he intended to keep, he told that pirate leader, he would gut him like a fish, and the day he crossed paths with that pirate he would make due on that promise whole heartedly. However, Belen at this point was in no state to do that. Ever since he lost his eye he seemingly lost his ability in archery, and although his skill wasn't gone, Belen knew it would take time to learn again with his new disability. Then again the fact that his fingers were broken didn't help either.
Belen knew he had to get better, but he couldn't do it on his own, which lead him on the road towards Taengea. Belen didn't know the kingdom or it's people all too well, however he knew their forests and coin well, in earlier times Belen would travel down too Taegnea during the hunting season and then sell his catches on the market, namely during the large festivals Taengea was so well known for. This time however, it was far more urgent. Over his years Belen had heard of amazing healers residing in Taengea, blessed or not they were people of great skill, after all there was always some truth in myths. Whether they could fix his eye was unlikely, not even the blessed could do such a thing, only the gods could preform such a miracle, and last time Belen checked they were not on his side.
During his time on the road the road towards Taengea it stormed, and it stormed hard. Rain beat down on him almost every second day as he travelled. There where times where during his travels he would have to stop for shelter and reapply his crude bandages. It was only for the last stretch of the journey was he able to hitch a ride on a farmer's carriage, after he took pity on Belen's undoubtedly pathetic state, and for as much as Belen's stubbornness wanted to deny the offer, saying he could make it on his own, Belen knew his condition was already bad, he could already feel sickness over taking his body, he didn't need it to get any worse.
It was the eve of that day he arrived in the city residence of Taengea. Belen was always a figure that seemed to seep into the shadows, unnoticed, yet here he stood out like a shinning beacon. His leather armour he wore was tattered and scarred by the countless slashes of a blade he received, his brown and green robes and been ripped and shredded and plenty of new scars littered his face and arms. Crude bandages made from the cloth of torn up clothing were wrapped around his head and right eye as well as both his hands. The quiver on his back held all but two arrows and his hatch was beaten and beat. The only thing that seemed to be in any usable condition was his bow, yet with his hands bandaged up, he was in no state to use it.
It had taken some time, but by the sky was turning black and stars began to lit up the streets, Belen slammed his hand down on the door of a healer. He had asked around the residences and those who wanted him gone from their sight pointed him in this direction, and those of compassion did the same. Coughing loudly as sickness began too over take his body, he slammed his hand down once more. "Please, please please." He whispered too himself as he rested his head on the door. Slamming his hand down again for the final time as he screwed his eyes shut. He needed a healer, he needed them now, he needed a miracle. He needed hope.
It had been about two weeks since his run in with the pirates, two weeks since the loss of his eye and two weeks since they shattered his pirates and drove his mind to the brink of insanity. Although it had been just about half a month since the incident, there wasn't one day when the thoughts of that awful night left his mind. The cruel laughter of those pirates, the screams of the women who got dragged off, the calls between brothers as one fell to the hands of pirates. They all plagued his mind.
It was undeniable that he failed that night, he made a promise to that village, to his friend, to keep them safe, to stave off those who threatened them. For all his efforts, he wasn't strong enough too beat them, and all he had too show for it was the loss of his right eye, broken hands and a depressed outlook. Although there was promise made that night that he intended to keep, he told that pirate leader, he would gut him like a fish, and the day he crossed paths with that pirate he would make due on that promise whole heartedly. However, Belen at this point was in no state to do that. Ever since he lost his eye he seemingly lost his ability in archery, and although his skill wasn't gone, Belen knew it would take time to learn again with his new disability. Then again the fact that his fingers were broken didn't help either.
Belen knew he had to get better, but he couldn't do it on his own, which lead him on the road towards Taengea. Belen didn't know the kingdom or it's people all too well, however he knew their forests and coin well, in earlier times Belen would travel down too Taegnea during the hunting season and then sell his catches on the market, namely during the large festivals Taengea was so well known for. This time however, it was far more urgent. Over his years Belen had heard of amazing healers residing in Taengea, blessed or not they were people of great skill, after all there was always some truth in myths. Whether they could fix his eye was unlikely, not even the blessed could do such a thing, only the gods could preform such a miracle, and last time Belen checked they were not on his side.
During his time on the road the road towards Taengea it stormed, and it stormed hard. Rain beat down on him almost every second day as he travelled. There where times where during his travels he would have to stop for shelter and reapply his crude bandages. It was only for the last stretch of the journey was he able to hitch a ride on a farmer's carriage, after he took pity on Belen's undoubtedly pathetic state, and for as much as Belen's stubbornness wanted to deny the offer, saying he could make it on his own, Belen knew his condition was already bad, he could already feel sickness over taking his body, he didn't need it to get any worse.
It was the eve of that day he arrived in the city residence of Taengea. Belen was always a figure that seemed to seep into the shadows, unnoticed, yet here he stood out like a shinning beacon. His leather armour he wore was tattered and scarred by the countless slashes of a blade he received, his brown and green robes and been ripped and shredded and plenty of new scars littered his face and arms. Crude bandages made from the cloth of torn up clothing were wrapped around his head and right eye as well as both his hands. The quiver on his back held all but two arrows and his hatch was beaten and beat. The only thing that seemed to be in any usable condition was his bow, yet with his hands bandaged up, he was in no state to use it.
It had taken some time, but by the sky was turning black and stars began to lit up the streets, Belen slammed his hand down on the door of a healer. He had asked around the residences and those who wanted him gone from their sight pointed him in this direction, and those of compassion did the same. Coughing loudly as sickness began too over take his body, he slammed his hand down once more. "Please, please please." He whispered too himself as he rested his head on the door. Slamming his hand down again for the final time as he screwed his eyes shut. He needed a healer, he needed them now, he needed a miracle. He needed hope.
It was late in the evening; darkness had already fallen, and the sky was filled with twinkling stars. Alexandros had fallen asleep many hours before, tuckered out from travelling from dawn to dusk. There was a sweet, sweet silence as slept, but the sound of desperate knocks awoke him from his slumber. His mother and brother didn't even stir. Quietly making his way to the front door, upon opening it his heart dropped to the floor. There on the steps lay a man, who had most definitely seen better days. Kneeling down, a hand went to his lips as he saw just how horribly beaten and sick the fellow truly was in the pale moonlight. He gulped and licked his lips preparing himself to heave the man inside before opening the door wider and gripping the inner part of the other male's arms. He felt his shoulder strain in pain as he lifted and drug them through the doorway, but he ignored the feeling and hurried off to grab his supplies.
Lighting a few candles, which he placed strategically around the man's body, he carefully removed the stranger's clothing and his hastily-made bandages. And Gods, he nearly leapt when he saw the shallow hole where the man's eye should have been. Just what in Zeus' name had this man been through? He certainty looked like he had visited the pits of Tartarus and somehow made it back to tell the tale. That'd be really something if he had, but it's not as if he man were conscious to speak his piece. Alek got to work on cleaning the man's wounds and sewing them up neatly before wiping the dust and dirt off the rest of his body. Continuing through the night, he addressed more of the things ailing his patient: pasting on salves and herbs to his colorful bruises and areas where there were internal bleeding and damage. When the morning came, he had his brother, Markos, help him carry the one-eyed man to a bed, where he could rest more comfortably. Waiting by his side, Alexandros accidentally dozed off.
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Staff Team
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It was late in the evening; darkness had already fallen, and the sky was filled with twinkling stars. Alexandros had fallen asleep many hours before, tuckered out from travelling from dawn to dusk. There was a sweet, sweet silence as slept, but the sound of desperate knocks awoke him from his slumber. His mother and brother didn't even stir. Quietly making his way to the front door, upon opening it his heart dropped to the floor. There on the steps lay a man, who had most definitely seen better days. Kneeling down, a hand went to his lips as he saw just how horribly beaten and sick the fellow truly was in the pale moonlight. He gulped and licked his lips preparing himself to heave the man inside before opening the door wider and gripping the inner part of the other male's arms. He felt his shoulder strain in pain as he lifted and drug them through the doorway, but he ignored the feeling and hurried off to grab his supplies.
Lighting a few candles, which he placed strategically around the man's body, he carefully removed the stranger's clothing and his hastily-made bandages. And Gods, he nearly leapt when he saw the shallow hole where the man's eye should have been. Just what in Zeus' name had this man been through? He certainty looked like he had visited the pits of Tartarus and somehow made it back to tell the tale. That'd be really something if he had, but it's not as if he man were conscious to speak his piece. Alek got to work on cleaning the man's wounds and sewing them up neatly before wiping the dust and dirt off the rest of his body. Continuing through the night, he addressed more of the things ailing his patient: pasting on salves and herbs to his colorful bruises and areas where there were internal bleeding and damage. When the morning came, he had his brother, Markos, help him carry the one-eyed man to a bed, where he could rest more comfortably. Waiting by his side, Alexandros accidentally dozed off.
It was late in the evening; darkness had already fallen, and the sky was filled with twinkling stars. Alexandros had fallen asleep many hours before, tuckered out from travelling from dawn to dusk. There was a sweet, sweet silence as slept, but the sound of desperate knocks awoke him from his slumber. His mother and brother didn't even stir. Quietly making his way to the front door, upon opening it his heart dropped to the floor. There on the steps lay a man, who had most definitely seen better days. Kneeling down, a hand went to his lips as he saw just how horribly beaten and sick the fellow truly was in the pale moonlight. He gulped and licked his lips preparing himself to heave the man inside before opening the door wider and gripping the inner part of the other male's arms. He felt his shoulder strain in pain as he lifted and drug them through the doorway, but he ignored the feeling and hurried off to grab his supplies.
Lighting a few candles, which he placed strategically around the man's body, he carefully removed the stranger's clothing and his hastily-made bandages. And Gods, he nearly leapt when he saw the shallow hole where the man's eye should have been. Just what in Zeus' name had this man been through? He certainty looked like he had visited the pits of Tartarus and somehow made it back to tell the tale. That'd be really something if he had, but it's not as if he man were conscious to speak his piece. Alek got to work on cleaning the man's wounds and sewing them up neatly before wiping the dust and dirt off the rest of his body. Continuing through the night, he addressed more of the things ailing his patient: pasting on salves and herbs to his colorful bruises and areas where there were internal bleeding and damage. When the morning came, he had his brother, Markos, help him carry the one-eyed man to a bed, where he could rest more comfortably. Waiting by his side, Alexandros accidentally dozed off.
Dark horses with scars and burning eyes charged him down, no matter how many arrows he fired in that dark landscape, they did not seem to slow. The world shifted around him, as long dark figures stood over him, each one with their twisting faces, holding a knife to his right eye. Then his world melted and contorted, as in front of him stood that pirate. That grin of malice and evil covering his face as he crushed his eye in one hand and held Adrasteia by the throat in his other. His head twisted and as he grinned showing dark sharpened teeth.
"I hope you're awake... We found your girls." He spat and laughed in hysterical laughter as Belen charged for him, yet for as fast as he ran, his feet only sunk into the ground, as hands stretched out from behind him. They grabbed his hair, his arms. Clawing at his face and legs, dragging him back into the dark abyss. Belen screamed, tears ran down his cheek as his heart tried to explode from his chest. Yet there was no sound. Nothing but that horrible laugh.
Belen woke from his slumber. Cold sweat running down his face and bare chest, as he found himself in a foreign place, tucked away into a bed. He looked around frantically, trying to gain any sense as to where he was. Sunlight broke through the windows, as he spotted the man sleeping in the chair next to his bed. Coming to the realisation he was in the house of the healer's he attempted to calm himself, closing his one eye as he lifted his hand to touch the right of his head. His fingers brushed across the fabric of new bandages, silently he swore too the gods, gripping his hand into a tight ball. It was no horrible dream after all.
Lowering himself, he ran a hand across his new bandages, his fingers twitching with pain as they still didn't seem to fully heal, even after his journey to Taengea. As he twisted his body, to sit up on the edge of the bed, pain ran throughout him, as he began to give a deathly loud cough. That journey to Taengea perhaps wasn't the best idea.
Attempting to stand up from his bed, he grunted as another wave of pain shot through his body, forcing him to sit down once more. It was only then he realised the real lack of clothing and the lack of his equipment. The idea of standing naked didn't bother him so much as the idea of not having his bow by his side. Forcing himself to stand once more, he stumbled to the side, his shoulder hitting the wall, which he then used to prompt himself up. Growling he moved over to a near by table, his body knocking into a chair, pushing it over. The sound of wood clattering on the floor echoed throughout the quiet room, as Belen held his naked body up, with both hands pressed up on the table.
"By the gods... Artemis save me." He growled as he rolled his eyes, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of his bow or clothing. Not that it would much use right now, his armour hand been destroyed in that fight, and he had torn his robes to shreds in order to create his bandages. However, he would not continue without his mother's bow. After that run in with the pirates, it was all he had left of her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Dark horses with scars and burning eyes charged him down, no matter how many arrows he fired in that dark landscape, they did not seem to slow. The world shifted around him, as long dark figures stood over him, each one with their twisting faces, holding a knife to his right eye. Then his world melted and contorted, as in front of him stood that pirate. That grin of malice and evil covering his face as he crushed his eye in one hand and held Adrasteia by the throat in his other. His head twisted and as he grinned showing dark sharpened teeth.
"I hope you're awake... We found your girls." He spat and laughed in hysterical laughter as Belen charged for him, yet for as fast as he ran, his feet only sunk into the ground, as hands stretched out from behind him. They grabbed his hair, his arms. Clawing at his face and legs, dragging him back into the dark abyss. Belen screamed, tears ran down his cheek as his heart tried to explode from his chest. Yet there was no sound. Nothing but that horrible laugh.
Belen woke from his slumber. Cold sweat running down his face and bare chest, as he found himself in a foreign place, tucked away into a bed. He looked around frantically, trying to gain any sense as to where he was. Sunlight broke through the windows, as he spotted the man sleeping in the chair next to his bed. Coming to the realisation he was in the house of the healer's he attempted to calm himself, closing his one eye as he lifted his hand to touch the right of his head. His fingers brushed across the fabric of new bandages, silently he swore too the gods, gripping his hand into a tight ball. It was no horrible dream after all.
Lowering himself, he ran a hand across his new bandages, his fingers twitching with pain as they still didn't seem to fully heal, even after his journey to Taengea. As he twisted his body, to sit up on the edge of the bed, pain ran throughout him, as he began to give a deathly loud cough. That journey to Taengea perhaps wasn't the best idea.
Attempting to stand up from his bed, he grunted as another wave of pain shot through his body, forcing him to sit down once more. It was only then he realised the real lack of clothing and the lack of his equipment. The idea of standing naked didn't bother him so much as the idea of not having his bow by his side. Forcing himself to stand once more, he stumbled to the side, his shoulder hitting the wall, which he then used to prompt himself up. Growling he moved over to a near by table, his body knocking into a chair, pushing it over. The sound of wood clattering on the floor echoed throughout the quiet room, as Belen held his naked body up, with both hands pressed up on the table.
"By the gods... Artemis save me." He growled as he rolled his eyes, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of his bow or clothing. Not that it would much use right now, his armour hand been destroyed in that fight, and he had torn his robes to shreds in order to create his bandages. However, he would not continue without his mother's bow. After that run in with the pirates, it was all he had left of her.
Dark horses with scars and burning eyes charged him down, no matter how many arrows he fired in that dark landscape, they did not seem to slow. The world shifted around him, as long dark figures stood over him, each one with their twisting faces, holding a knife to his right eye. Then his world melted and contorted, as in front of him stood that pirate. That grin of malice and evil covering his face as he crushed his eye in one hand and held Adrasteia by the throat in his other. His head twisted and as he grinned showing dark sharpened teeth.
"I hope you're awake... We found your girls." He spat and laughed in hysterical laughter as Belen charged for him, yet for as fast as he ran, his feet only sunk into the ground, as hands stretched out from behind him. They grabbed his hair, his arms. Clawing at his face and legs, dragging him back into the dark abyss. Belen screamed, tears ran down his cheek as his heart tried to explode from his chest. Yet there was no sound. Nothing but that horrible laugh.
Belen woke from his slumber. Cold sweat running down his face and bare chest, as he found himself in a foreign place, tucked away into a bed. He looked around frantically, trying to gain any sense as to where he was. Sunlight broke through the windows, as he spotted the man sleeping in the chair next to his bed. Coming to the realisation he was in the house of the healer's he attempted to calm himself, closing his one eye as he lifted his hand to touch the right of his head. His fingers brushed across the fabric of new bandages, silently he swore too the gods, gripping his hand into a tight ball. It was no horrible dream after all.
Lowering himself, he ran a hand across his new bandages, his fingers twitching with pain as they still didn't seem to fully heal, even after his journey to Taengea. As he twisted his body, to sit up on the edge of the bed, pain ran throughout him, as he began to give a deathly loud cough. That journey to Taengea perhaps wasn't the best idea.
Attempting to stand up from his bed, he grunted as another wave of pain shot through his body, forcing him to sit down once more. It was only then he realised the real lack of clothing and the lack of his equipment. The idea of standing naked didn't bother him so much as the idea of not having his bow by his side. Forcing himself to stand once more, he stumbled to the side, his shoulder hitting the wall, which he then used to prompt himself up. Growling he moved over to a near by table, his body knocking into a chair, pushing it over. The sound of wood clattering on the floor echoed throughout the quiet room, as Belen held his naked body up, with both hands pressed up on the table.
"By the gods... Artemis save me." He growled as he rolled his eyes, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of his bow or clothing. Not that it would much use right now, his armour hand been destroyed in that fight, and he had torn his robes to shreds in order to create his bandages. However, he would not continue without his mother's bow. After that run in with the pirates, it was all he had left of her.
